Cat’s-eye
By Morticia
C/Various
NC-17
Disclaimers: They aren’t mine dammit, I just borrowed ‘em and I promise to put them back again, only slightly soiled.
1/?
There was no warning. One minute Voyager was traveling at warp 6 through a seemingly uninhabited sector of the Delta Quadrant, the next, a coherent gravitational field snatched the ship and threw her straight through a dark-matter nebula and directly into the mouth of a wormhole.
Despite the frantic dance of Tom Paris’s talented fingers over the helm, the tiny ship buffeted mercilessly against the gravity walls of the phenomenon.
“Shields at 30%, Captain,” Harry cried out as a fresh shockwave hit the hull.
“Keep her steady, Lieutenant,” Chakotay said.
“I’m trying, sir, but it’s like riding a wild pony,” Tom replied breathlessly.
“Oh shit,” he gasped, and made another frantic correction.
“We’ve lost shields,” Harry stated, his voice a little panicked.
A new compression wave struck the vessel as a curve in the wormhole caught even Paris’s lightening reflexes unawares.
“Hull breach decks 9 through 12,” Tuvok stated
“Evacuate and seal those sections. Can’t we get out of this thing?” Captain Janeway asked.
“The gravimetric pull suggests a collapsed neutron star, the magnetic forces are too great. We would rip the ship apart. Our only chance is to get through to the other end,” Tuvok told her dispassionately.
“We’ve lost warp engines,” he added a few moments later.
“I’m trying to, oh shit, shit, shit!” Tom’s curses ceased abruptly as Voyager careered from side to side, her sides buckling against the repeated impacts.
“Life support failing on decks 9 through 12,” Harry announced, desperately.
Janeway gave the frightened Ensign a nod of acknowledgement and then staggered forward from her seat to the helm, to clasp a supportive hand on Tom’s shoulder.
“I’m trying,” he gasped and she squeezed her hand both in acknowledgement of his valiant efforts, and as a personal gesture of comfort.
Should they die here, they would die together. Not just as Lieutenant and Captain, but as the lovers that they had been for several months.
“Hull integrity at 20%,” Tuvok stated tonelessly, “3 minutes to hull-breach.”
“How far to the end of the worm hole?” The Captain demanded calmly.
“We are half-way through the phenomenon, according to my sensors,” he replied solemnly.
“We can’t make it on impulse,“ Tom gasped. “Besides, the port nacelle is off-line and the steering is completely fucked.”
“Punch through the wall, Tom.” Janeway stated firmly.
Tom risked taking his eyes of the helm for a moment and gave her an incredulous grin.
“This is becoming a habit, Captain,” he quipped nervously, but his eyes sparkled with the mischievousness that had finally broken her resistance to his charms.
Janeway met his questioning eyes with resolution.
“Do it, Tom,” she said firmly.
“The probability of surviving such a manoeuvre is less than 40%,” Tuvok warned.
“What’s the probability of us surviving more than 2 more minutes inside?” Tom countered, his loyalty at this point due to his faith in his Captain, rather than the relationship that they shared.
“Punch through, Tom,” Janeway told him and staggered back to her chair. “All hands brace for impact.”
Tom battled the helm for control and swung the ship against the gravity wall of the wormhole. The shuddering impact of Tom’s manoeuvre threw all of them to the floor as, with a screaming, grinding wail of tortured metal, Voyager burst through the phenomenon and out into space.
“Fires reported on all decks,” Tuvok informed the bridge; as soon as he had dragged himself back to his console.
“The Doctor is reporting numerous minor casualties, but none fatal or life-threatening,” Harry called triumphantly from Ops.
Tom hauled himself exhaustedly back to his chair, blood from a gashed forehead mingling with the perspiration that dripped from his sodden hair.
“Impulse engines off-line, Captain, we’re just drifting,” he reported, as he checked the helm.
“Well done, Tom,” she replied. “Oh, and we’ll have to discuss the matter of appropriate language on the bridge later.”
Tom blushed as he remembered his profanities, but the Captain was smiling mischievously and he relaxed again, confident that he would enjoy whatever ‘punishment’ she came up with.
~~~
Janeway tried to look calm and confident as she met with her senior officers in her ready room. It wasn’t an easy task, considering the doleful faces and tales of woe that they were all sharing.
Only the gentle tapping of Tom’s foot against her leg gave her the strength to keep her expression neutral. His secret support grounded her and she drew courage from his ceaseless faith in her.
“Our sensors indicate that we are still within the influence of the Neutron, Captain. We have arrived in what appears to be a totally self-contained micro-universe. There only seems to be one way out of this nebula, the same way we came in,” Tuvok intoned solemnly.
“The new shields I installed are holding, but decks 9 through 12 are still sealed off. The warp engines are irreparable. I can’t even offer you more than quarter impulse, Captain. We are using all the energy we have just to maintain the shields and minimal life support,” B’Elanna growled angrily.
“There are still forty-seven untreated crewmembers, with injuries ranging from plasma burns to broken limbs. Sickbay is beginning to resemble a field hospital. Most of my medical equipment was damaged in the fire. I am having to work with personal regenerators purloined from undamaged quarters, and my own program has gone off-line nine times in the last seven hours,” the Doctor griped.
“Any suggestions, people?” Janeway interrupted tiredly, unable to deal with another harangue from the hologram.
“There is an M-class planet, two days away at our current speed. Our long-range sensors indicate a small humanoid population. We have picked up no surface structures and there are no warp-signatures in the vicinity, so it is unlikely to be technologically advanced, but still there is a possibility of us finding some of the materials necessary for repairs. Our sensors show that it is rich in mineral deposits.” Chakotay said quietly.
“A pre-technological society is hardly going to be much help to us, and most of the equipment necessary for ore extraction was damaged by the hull breach in cargo bay one,” B’Elanna snarled.
“I don’t see that we have much choice, other than to approach the planet. We will at least be able to replenish our food supplies and possibly find a source of energy. We should avoid the population, however, and keep a low profile. If they are pre-warp, the prime directive applies,” the Captain replied.
“Of course,” Chakotay nodded.
“What if we can’t escape the nebula, Captain?” Harry asked quietly.
“Then we’ll just have to hope the natives are friendly,” Tom quipped.
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” Chakotay replied mildly.
“It won’t,” the Captain pronounced firmly, but she only saw doubt and uncertainty in her Officers’ eyes.
She had made a promise to get them home, and she was determined to keep it. Yet, privately she wondered whether doubt was the more realistic viewpoint. Voyager was so badly damaged that perhaps they had finally reached the end of the line.
Prime directive or not, there was only one inhabitable planet in this micro-universe, and they might indeed have to spend the rest of their lives on it.
~~~
“You are aliens,” the creature announced with a wide smile.
“We are, um, from another continent.” Chakotay replied helplessly, meeting Tom’s eyes over the alien’s head. The pilot just shrugged with equal confusion.
They had scanned the planet and discovered to their dismay that the only sources of mineral deposits seemed to be located in the sole inhabited area. To further complicate matters, their long-range scans had been correct. The only surface structures were small wooden buildings, surrounded by cultivated fields. The alien society appeared to be not only pre-warp, but also completely agrarian.
Only the fact that there were no other m-class planets in the whole nebula ‘bubble’ finally convinced the Captain to send an away team to the surface. They had failed to get the damaged transporters on line, so the away team had been forced to descend by shuttle. She had sent Tom as pilot, Chakotay as negotiator, Johannes as away-team science officer and Ayala in case of hostility, although they were all under strict orders to ‘blend in’ with the natives.
They had sent a probe to the surface to take vid-clips of the inhabitants and so the away-team were not only dressed like the locals but also had been medically altered to show the same facial ridges. They landed the shuttle in a mountainous area several kilometres west of the settlement and made their way by foot. So they were astounded that the very first person they met saw straight through their disguise.
The creature laughed, “There IS no other continent. Do not be concerned. In a way, I too am an alien. The Grrchek welcomed my people when we arrived on their planet. I am sure that they also will be most welcoming of you and your crew.”
As the alien led them to his settlement, he introduced himself as Brechak Nervar, and explained that his people, the Savernan, had been drawn through the wormhole and had escaped into the nebula, only to find that their ship was irreparably damaged.
“The Grrchek DID offer to help us to repair our vessel, but it took so long that by the time we were half-way through, we had begun to settle down and make homes for ourselves and we all decided to stay. It is a rich and bountiful land; our homeworld was a barren, inhospitable place in comparison. Our crew was seeking a new home, anyway, our landing was fortuitous, a blessing of the gods.”
“There were no warp signatures and there is no sign of your ship on the planet’s surface,” Chakotay muttered. “How long have your people been here?”
“Two hundred turns of this planet. My father’s father’s grandfather was born here. It is our home,” Brechak replied proudly.
“These Grrchek. Where do they live, and if they had the technology to help you repair your vessel, why was there no evidence of it, or them, when we scanned the planet?” Chakotay queried.
“The Grrchek live within the earth,” Brechak replied placidly.
“Underground?” Tom asked, arching his brows in puzzlement.
“Yes, they live in a city beneath the earth and rarely come up to the surface,” Brechak answered.
“Can you take us to them?” Chakotay asked.
Brechak looked nervous at his question. He licked his lips as though they had suddenly gone dry.
“No. They would not permit it, it is sacrilege to approach them directly.” he finally replied. “When we arrive at my farm, I will summon our people and our sage will pray to the Grrchek. If they choose to help you, they will let us know.”
“You said they were friendly,” Tom challenged.
“They ARE friendly. They provide for us when the harvest is poor and they give us shelter to protect us from the elements. They even provide medical attention when one of us is seriously injured. However, our status here is as their guests. We are not permitted to enter their city and only our holy Sage is permitted to contact them.”
“More like pets than guests,” Tom muttered.
Chakotay glared at him, even as he privately agreed with Tom’s comment. The Grrchek’s impersonal care of the Savernan did seem more like the consideration given a pet than that of an equal. If it was even true.
Brechak seemed unconcerned by Tom’s words, however.
“They did not invite my people to their world. We simply arrived. They had no duty to help us leave, nor no reason to let us stay when we so decided. In all things, they have been generous. We neither deserved nor expected their help. Consequently, we are grateful for what they offer us freely and we do not ask for more than they are willing to give. Hopefully they will also offer you whatever assistance you require.”
“Can they repair our ship?” Tom asked excitedly.
“If they so choose,” Brechak replied with a satisfied smile.
“So they are technologically advanced?” Chakotay asked.
“No, not as you would understand it,” Brechak answered thoughtfully.
“You said they could help to repair our ship,” Tom reminded him irritably.
“The Grrchek have a way of providing what is necessary, but not always that which is wanted.” Brechak replied vaguely. “At one time, it was the repair of our ship, so I assume that they could also repair yours. But the Grrchek do not always answer our prayers.”
“So they could provide us with what we need?” Tom demanded.
“If they choose to, then yes, I suppose so,” Brechak replied, but he refused to be drawn into any further explanation, merely shrugging nervously at their questions.
Chakotay and Tom dropped back to talk quietly amongst themselves.
“What do you think, Tom?”
“I think we need to talk to these Grrchek, whoever or whatever they are. Do you really think they can help us?”
“I’m not even sure that they exist, Tom. Brechak can’t describe them, their city, or how to contact them except through his ‘holy Sage’. He is increasingly vague; the more we question him, the less he says. Our sensors showed no remains of a crashed spaceship, half-repaired or not.”
“True,” Tom nodded. “So you think he is lying?”
“I’m not sure. I’m more inclined to think that he is describing some legend. A mysterious, god-like people who live in a city under the ground and offer food and protection from nature, strikes me more as a religion that his people have developed over the centuries, than any concrete proof that the Grrchek exist.”
“Yeah,” Tom muttered despondently. “Although it’s weird that their ship has completely disappeared. You would expect there to be some trace of wreckage at least, even after all this time.”
“Our sensors indicated a high prevalence of seismic activity. Perhaps their craft was swallowed up in an earthquake or something, which would explain why our sensors can’t find it, and the legends of it being buried became the basis of the “Grrchek’s” underground city,” Chakotay replied.
“So, even assuming the Grrchek don’t exist, at least we don’t have to worry about the Prime Directive. If Brechak’s people are as friendly as he is, I can’t see a problem in us landing Voyager to gather food and make repairs,” Tom said cheerfully.
Chakotay had to smile at Tom’s irrepressible optimism. The chances of them ever getting Voyager in a condition to re-enter the wormhole was infinitesimally small.
“You’re spending too much time with Kathryn,” he murmured. “Her absolute belief that we will get home is rubbing off on you.”
Tom did not take offence, he just grinned self-depreciatingly at Chakotay’s words.
“She’s kind of like a force of nature, Commander. I can’t imagine anything or anyone stopping her, once her mind is made up about something.”
“B’Elanna obviously gave you a taste for strong women,” Chakotay chuckled.
Tom narrowed his eyes at the comment, but then relaxed and laughed good-naturedly.
"Yeah, but I decided I preferred coping with a tongue-lashing rather than a broken collar-bone.”
Chakotay smiled back and patted him on the shoulder. Since Tom had been dating the Captain, most of his self-protective abrasiveness had disappeared. As a consequence of this, and Chakotay’s own friendship with Kathryn, their old animosity to each other had faded into a distant memory.
“Spirits, she’s pretty magnificent when she’s mad though,” he chuckled.
“B’El or Kathryn?” Tom laughed.
“I was referring to B’Elanna, but since you mention it, Kathryn is pretty magnificent too,” Chakotay replied with a wry grin.
“Yes, she is,” Tom agreed happily.
Chakotay felt a tiny twinge of envy but quickly pushed its unwelcome presence back into his subconscious. It was too late, after all. After all his years of being celibate and alone, unwilling to start a meaningless relationship, he had finally recognised in one of his crewmates someone that he could love.
Only, since his eyes had only finally been opened by the relationship of that person with another, it was too late to cry foul now.
He had missed his chance. There was nothing to be done about it. His prejudice had blinded him against the truth for too long, and now he could only resign himself to a life of loneliness.
Tom Paris belonged to Kathryn now.
~~~
Their arrival within the Savernan settlement was met with the same open friendliness and lack of surprise that Brechak had shown.
The Savernans were generous hosts, offering food and welcome, their faces honest and open in their excitement over Voyager’s arrival.
Chakotay contacted Voyager to report that the ‘natives’ were actually stranded aliens, formerly of a warp-capable society and Kathryn agreed that the Prime Directive didn’t apply, given the strange circumstances, and that he could negotiate for their supplies.
He then spoke at great length with several of the Savernan. As far as he could gather, there was no true structure to their society. They lived in scattered homesteads and had no government or acknowledged leaders.
The only person he met who appeared to have any authority was Anghara, an ancient old woman, who seemed to have the exalted status of a shaman. He assumed she was the Sage that Brechak had spoken of, but she was as vague as he had been about exactly who or what the Grrchek were.
Eventually, they were invited to spend the night at the Nervar family home. Chakotay accepted gratefully, since it was a long trek back to where they had parked the shuttle.
After a plain but tasty dinner, Ayala and Johannes accepted an invitation to view the homestead, while Tom and Chakotay took the opportunity to discuss their situation.
“So, you still think the Grrchek are just a legend?” Tom queried.
Chakotay shrugged expressively and gestured around the solid but crude wooden dwelling.
“There isn’t a single anomalous item here to suggest the influence of beneficial aliens, Tom. The lifestyle of these people is simple, agrarian and is no more or less what you would expect of a people who have been stranded on a planet with only the basic tools of survival.”
“Yes, that’s what I think too. And that old holy woman was really weird. All her wild gesturing and talk of praying to the Grrchek to have mercy on us ‘lost sheep’, gave me the creeps,” Tom proclaimed, with a dramatic shudder.
Chakotay smiled indulgently.
“She’s an old widow, Tom. I agree she was over-dramatic, but then again her status as a Sage is probably her only security and power in this society. In a harsh environment, religion is a crutch that people have always fallen back on. The Savernan seem to be a kind, peaceful people and their religion comforts them, and gives an old woman a sense of purpose. Don’t judge her too harshly.”
Tom frowned thoughtfully over his words and then bit his lip uncertainly.
“What is it?” Chakotay queried.
“I just had a weird thought, myself,” Tom replied slowly.
“What weird thought?”
“The harsh environment. Our sensors showed a lot of seismic activity, and the electrical disturbances in the atmosphere suggest regular severe storms,” Tom finally offered.
“These buildings may be made of wood, Tom, but they are very substantial and have deep foundations. They have stood for almost two centuries. I doubt that the Savernan are affected too badly by the weather, and presumably the crops they grow are native to the planet, so can survive the environment without difficulty,” Chakotay replied.
“I know that,” Tom snapped impatiently. “But how did they survive before they erected the buildings? Like you said, they are substantial. It must have taken months to cut the logs, let alone build the houses.”
Chakotay pondered his words.
“Perhaps they were still living in their ship at the time. We’ll have to ask Brechak,” he answered, but his forehead knotted in a frown regardless.
Further discussion was interrupted as the door opened and Brechak entered with a beaming smile.
“The Grrchek have spoken to our Sage. Your crew are welcome to come down to the surface. Shelter has been provided,” Brechak told them happily.
Chakotay’s comm badge chirped before he could reply.
“A structure has appeared on the planet, five hundred meters from your position,” Tuvok’s voice announced.
Chakotay stepped through the doorway and gasped. A huge opaque dome had appeared on the far end of the nearest crop field, as though it had grown from the earth itself.
“It is to protect you from the environment while you build your homes,” Brechak explained. “The Grrchek are very generous, you see.”
“Indeed, but we don’t intend to stay, we want to repair our ship and leave,” Chakotay replied firmly, even as his eyes met Tom’s and he gave a small nod of acknowledgement at Tom’s smug expression.
Brechak shrugged disdainfully at this apparent slight to his ‘gods’.
“Perhaps the Grrchek will offer further help to your people, perhaps not,” he sniffed.
Chakotay looked at the dome thoughtfully. A people who could manifest such a building, apparently out of thin air, were Voyager’s best and possibly only hope of leaving this nebula again.
He turned to Brechak.
“Please ask Sage Anghara to convey our most profound gratitude to the Grrchek for their benevolence,” he said smoothly. “We will return to our people and tell them of our good fortune.”
Brechak’s miffed expression transformed instantly back to his previous good nature.
“We will welcome you all as our new neighbours,” he gushed happily as he left them alone again.
Chakotay and Tom exchanged glances.
“Let’s get the others and head back to the shuttle,” Chakotay said.
“So the Grrchek DO exist,” Tom said unnecessarily.
“It certainly appears so.”
“You don’t sound particularly happy about it, Commander,” Tom remarked perceptively.
“Let’s just say that your original comment, about them treating the Savernan like pets, is in the back of my mind.”
“You think it’s a trap?”
“Maybe it’s a pretty cage, Tom. I am certainly in no rush to suggest that we land here. If the Grrchek can make a building spring up from the earth, perhaps they can suck a ship into it. What if we land, disembark, and then Voyager disappears?”
“On the other hand, what other options do we have?” Tom asked realistically.
Chakotay frowned worriedly.
“I don’t know, Tom. We certainly can’t afford to antagonize them. Let’s try and find out what we are dealing with first.”
“Difficult if they won’t even meet with us,” Tom griped.
“Well, they might agree to meet with OUR sage,” Chakotay grinned slyly.
“Our sage?”
“I think Kathryn is capable of giving Anghara a run for her money,” Chakotay replied. “Like you said yourself, she’s a force of nature. She won’t accept the Grrchek’s refusal to meet her without a damn good fight.”